“You’re sure this thing can’t go any faster?”
Sakuya folded her arms, trying to will the traffic ahead of her to push onward. There were almost half a dozen cars between them and the traffic lights, and no other lanes to shift across.
“I dunno if you realise, but there
are other people on the road,” Komachi grumbled. Her hands were clamped to the wheel, fingers tapping out the theme to a song Sakuya didn’t recognise. “We’re a few blocks out, so if you’re that desperate you may as well walk.”
The road was full to the brim. Sakuya stared at it, then towards the door. She unfastened her seatbelt.
“Actually, that’s an excellent idea.”
Komachi jerked her head around. “Hey, you can’t just walk out! I don't wanna pick you off the tarmac!”
“It’s not like anyone's moving, is it?” Sakuya nudged the door open, slipping out into the motionless traffic. Several drivers blared their horns at her, but she paid them no mind. “I’ll meet you inside.”
Komachi looked set to complain, but now that Sakuya was out of the car it was too late to do much about it. She muttered something resembling a yes before closing the door behind her.
Sure enough, Sakuya’s trip to the sidewalk was perfectly safe. She slithered between cars, ignoring the profanities of the drivers as she stepped off of the road. From there, she broke into a sprint down the street, charging past pedestrians whenever her path was blocked.
She wasn’t sure what was driving her to this. Normally she’d be the sort to sit back and act refined in these situations, but something about this lead had lit a fuse in her chest. She refused to sit around and wait for a moment longer than she had to.
By the time the district court came into view, Sakuya could feel her lungs burning. She wasn’t particularly unfit, but she didn’t have the inhuman endurance that Mokou possessed. As she stepped in, she allowed herself to slow to a casual pace. No matter how desperate she was, running around a courthouse would attract undue attention.
She remembered the path to the archives, and most of the guards recognised her as she passed. Sometimes having a memorable look paid off for her.
“Wait, weren’t you with Onozuka-san?” one of the security staff asked.
Sakuya imagined Komachi stuck out in traffic, yelling obscenities at the traffic lights. She smirked.
“She’ll catch up.”
She spoke with enough authority that a guard on a low pay grade didn’t see fit to question her. Two minutes later, she had the archives to herself again. As soon as the guards were out of sight she began to open cabinets at random. The drawers weren’t labelled, and Komachi hadn’t bothered to explain the ordering system to her. In the end she settled for brute force.
“The adoption records should be around here somewhere...”
Sakuya fingered through the folders, looking for anything that resembled what she was looking for. She glanced down the room, seeing dozens of identical cabinets. Maybe she should have waited for Komachi after all.
After five minutes of scrambling through the records, the door heaved open behind her.
“I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re tryin’ to get me fired.”
Komachi didn’t take her complaints any further than that. Sakuya was grateful for it. The time she spent complaining was time she could spend telling Sakuya where to look.
“You want the third cabinet on the left,” Komachi said, answering the question before Sakuya had time to ask it. “Saigyouji will probably be in the second drawer.”
Sakuya nodded, almost leaping across the room to get to the right cabinet. She pulled the drawer open, reading through the names as quickly as her eyes could process them. When she found the name Saigyouji among the list, she had to fight the urge to scream with joy.
“Got it.” She opted for something much more polite as she lifted the folder out and laid it onto the desk. It was a small, musty file, no more than a few pages long. Minimal coverage was what Yuyuko would have wanted if she was planning to cover it up.
This still didn’t answer the important question, though. Why would Yuyuko Saigyouji adopt a child? And if so, where had they gone? The answers were sitting in front of her, Sakuya thought to herself. She felt a pang of fear as she turned to the first page, wondering if she was about to uncover something best kept hidden.
“Let’s see...covering letter from the adoption agency, dated for the 23rd of April, ten years ago...”
Sakuya gasped. The pieces were coming together.
“What’s so special about the date?” Komachi asked, looming over Sakuya’s shoulder to peer at the letter.
Sakuya felt something well up in her throat. She struggled to get the words out.
“That was...a few days after Youki fell ill.”
Komachi sat in awkward silence for a moment. Sakuya shook herself and continued.
“About ten years ago, Youki was struck down with a serious illness. His mother was secretive about it, but that was how she was with everything. This was before he made a name for himself in kendo, so most people didn’t even know what he looked like. A month later, he recovered with no obvious side effects.”
“How is that relevant to-” Komachi cut herself off, staring off into the distance in awe. “Wait. So while Youki's being sick, Yuyuko adopts a kid?”
Sakuya nodded. She felt numb, barely noticing that she was digging her fingernails into her palms.
“Youki...isn’t Youki,” she said, more to herself than to Komachi. “The illness must have been more serious than Saigyouji wanted to admit. Too serious.” She needed to hold onto the desk for support as the line of thought reached its conclusion.
“Youki died ten years ago. The man I met - the man we thought was Youki - is his replacement.”
Komachi stood stone-faced behind her. She nodded in resigned understanding.
“If that’s true...why would the kid agree to it? I mean, having a new home is great and all, but why would they agree to become someone else?”
“I don’t know the answer to that question,” Sakuya answered. Her fingers gripped at the corner of the page. “But if I keep reading, I might find out.”
The next page was a wall of text. Sakuya skimmed through as quickly as she could, taking in everything that seemed relevant. She glazed over paragraphs covering the head of the establishment and the adoption agency he worked for.
These papers declare the owner, Yuyuko Saigyouji, to be a suitable carer. As of April 23rd, she is to be entrusted with the care of Youmu Konpaku, until such a date where the dependent can be expected to sustain herself-“Ah-”
Something stabbed at Sakuya’s chest. She read the line again.
As of April 23rd, she is to be entrusted with the care of Youmu KonpakuSomething in her mind was giving way. She leaned forward, burning the words into her eyes.
the care of Youmu KonpakuY o u m u K o n p a k uSakuya heard it. She heard the sound of a wall falling apart inside her brain. A deluge of memories poured in from behind it, assaulting her senses.
“Kyaah!”
She lost her balance, falling forwards onto the desk. She was home. School was over. The smell of her mother’s homemade dinner in floating through the air. No. Not home. The beach. Her first time eating ice cream. So cold her teeth hurt. No, the bus, off the road, mama wasn’t moving, why was nobody moving-
“Hey, kid! Speak to me!”
Komachi grabbed at her shoulder. That link to reality was enough to pull Sakuya out of her trance. Five years of her life had played in front of her eyes in the last five seconds. She felt painfully fragile as she pulled herself upright, ready to fall apart if so much as a breeze blew her the wrong way.
“...Sorry. I’m alright.”
“Like hell you are,” Komachi said. “You don’t fall over ‘cause you read a word the wrong way. What’s going on?”
“No time. Have to go.” Sakuya stumbled towards the door with the posture of a zombie. “Koishi-san. Backup. Remember?”
Komachi was mute as she followed Sakuya out of the courthouse. She gave nods to security officers that passed by, but otherwise Sakuya had stunned her into silence. Once or twice she walked into Sakuya as the maid’s steps grew erratic. Sakuya felt blank, empty, like the sudden rush of memory had washed out everything else inside her. Her head felt like an eggshell, and as she stepped into the car she could feel the brittle walls cracking. She grabbed her temples and fought back a scream.
She’d never felt this sort of hatred towards anyone in her life, not even Morichika. If she ever got her hands on Yuyuko Saigyouji, she wouldn’t be able to control herself.
“What the hell’s happening with you?” Komachi yelled as she threw the key into the ignition.
“Not important,” Sakuya whispered, barely able to hear herself over the throbbing in her skull. “Just go already. It doesn’t matter.”
Komachi’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “Alright, missy, I have had just about enough of you. You haul me out on my days off to help you out, and when you finally get somewhere suddenly I’m outta the loop? This started being my problem as soon as I had to put my ass on the line for it. When we get to Saigyouji’s place we are probably going to have to fight off a ton of those crazy youkai things, and I can’t have you grabbing your head and yelling every five minutes.
So you know what we’re doing?” Komachi folded her arms and leaned back in the driver’s seat. “We are going nowhere until you let me know what the hell you just figured out.”
Sakuya was tempted to shove a foot over and hit the gas pedal on Komachi’s behalf, but in the end the lawyer had a point. She’d be useless in a fight if these headaches didn’t go away. She took a moment to focus, leaning back in her chair as the energy faded from her body.
“I knew the name.”
Komachi leaned forward. “What?”
“The child. The one Yuyuko adopted. I recognised it. Well, I didn’t before, but...I remember now.”
The world grew misty as Sakuya felt the tears well up in her eyes.
“Youmu Konpaku...she’s my sister.”
-----
Koishi sat at the foot of the tree. For once, the tree itself was at the back of her mind. She couldn’t look away from the spirit of Youki Saigyouji, who had taken a seiza pose to sit across from her. It must have been much easier when you were dead, Koishi thought to herself. No need to worry about pins and needles.
“Youki-san,” she started, voice shaking a little. Talking to the deceased was not her specialty. “How...are you?”
The ghost frowned. “You don’t need to be so sensitive, miss. I know what I am. I’ve had ten years to figure it out.”
Koishi gasped, bringing a hand forward as if to try pulling the words back out of the air. “Uh, sorry. I’m not really used to talking to, uh...ghosts.”
Youki wore a small smile. “I don’t think most people are. You’re the first person to see me, in fact. I was scared that everyone forgot who I was...” He looked away, his eyes wistful. Koishi wondered if ghosts could cry.
She had to know the truth, though. If anyone could tell her what was happening, it was him. She clenched her fists together as she took a deep breath.
“Youki-san...please. I need you to tell me what happened here.”
The spirit simply nodded. The question didn’t faze him in the slightest - if anything, it was as if he had expected it from the beginning. He spoke with a serene tone, like he was telling the story of someone else entirely.
“It all started ten years ago. I woke up late for my daily training, feeling feverish, and half an hour later I was bedridden. Illness wasn’t something I was used to, but this was a worse disease than anything I’d ever been through.
My mother...she was a wonderful woman, and she understood that a young boy could not stay sane with nothing but his room to keep him company. Not just that - I was homeschooled from birth, so I had little experience with children my own age. She told me about it a week after I fell ill - that I would be getting a sister, and it would be Youmu Konpaku.”
Koishi blinked. “Youmu...?”
“A family friend,” Youki answered. “You know that the Saigyouji family is active in the kendo circles, I assume? The Konpaku family is another smaller family with similar roots. They weren’t as wealthy, but they were talented - the younger sister, Youmu, was even better than me at her age. They were a force to be reckoned with, until...the accident.”
He slumped, like the memories were finally reaching him. “There was a girls’ invitational tournament off in the mountains. The rest of Youmu’s family traveled for it - she’d have gone too, but she’d come down with a cold that weeked. She wasn’t there for the accident - the bus they were driving slid off the road and crashed into the ocean. There was no immediate family to take her in, and my mother had always been close to the Konpaku family. I suppose the adoption worked out for all of us.”
Koishi could imagine the scene. It was a win-win situation for both children - Youmu had someone to live with after she’d lost her own family, and Youki could finally feel and act like a child.
But things hadn’t worked out.
“So what happened?” Koishi was almost scared to ask, but she had come too far to give up now. She had to find the truth, as ugly as it might have been. Now Youki was definitely feeling the weight of the situation, beginning to phase in and out of Koishi’s vision.
“For a few weeks, it was wonderful. Youmu opened up to me, and I had lots of fun with her. It was like I finally had a real sister. Then there came the day when I felt a little hotter than usual, and it started getting harder and harder to breathe...”
For a few moments, he vanished entirely, before jumping back into Koishi’s sight. He had jumped to the right, unable to keep his position stable as he jumped in and out of existence.
“By the time I understood what was going on, I was standing outside of my body. My mother was kneeling over my bed, shaking my head, screaming with a voice that I’ve done my best to forget. I tried to speak to her, to speak to Youmu, but no-one even knew I was there.”
Now he was on the verge of losing calm, jumping from left to right after every sentence. “After a few days, my mother...changed. I think...I meant a lot to her, and it was so out of the blue that she didn’t want to accept it. She had to replace me. And she had the perfect replacement.”
No. She didn’t... Koishi shook her head, her blood freezing in her veins. Youki gave a small nod.
“For a few weeks, Youmu didn’t play along. My mother started calling her Youki, dressing her in my clothes, teaching her my moves, telling her anecdotes she’d never been around to see. But that resistance only lasted so long. Eventually, Youmu took up the mantle, and she’s been living under my name ever since.”
His eyes misted up, but no tears fell from them. “And now my own mother doesn’t remember me. She doesn’t...she doesn’t...” His mouth opened, and for an instant Koishi heard the boy let out a pathetic whine at his own fate.
Then he came apart entirely. He vanished along with a gust of the passing wind, leaving Koishi alone among the cherry blossoms.
“Youki-san?”
Koishi stood up, looking around for the young spirit. She stepped towards the tree, looking for any semblance of Youki. Had the emotions left him too panicked to maintain his form? She wouldn’t find out. There was no sign of him.
What she did notice was the dirt.
“Oh, god.”
She had been wondering why Youki only showed up here. As she looked at the ground, she could make out a small patch of dirt that stood out above the rest. It was a lighter colour than the dirt surrounding it - barely, but just enough for her to notice.
It was about the size of a young child.
“She...buried him here...”
Koishi felt something rising up in her throat. She fell to her knees and barely kept her stomach’s contents from being thrown to the floor. She made slow, deliberate steps down the staircase, holding a hand over her mouth the entire way.
She was in the presence of something abominable. All the time, she’d been in the presence of a girl who’d been forced to live a lie on the part of a woman who couldn’t cope with reality. Two tragedies had come together and become something that Koishi could barely imagine, let alone think about.
They had to know. Sango and Mokou had to know what was going on. Koishi wasn’t going to let this farce go on any longer. It was cruel on Youmu.
But more than that, it was cruel on the boy who’d been forced to watch as his mother forgot him.
-----
By the time Komachi and Sakuya emerged from the courthouse, the evening rush hour had died down. Komachi had plenty of room to maneuver as she brought Old Rusty back onto the road, pushing its engine as hard as it could be pushed. This only came up to a mile or two above the speed limit, but every little bit helped.
Sakuya was recovering from her earlier stupor. She still murmured to herself, whispering stories of days gone by so her brain could process them in full. Komachi led her along, giving her a chance to get it off her chest as they went.
“So what IS your name?” Komachi asked. “I mean, your real one.”
Sakuya paused for a moment, like she was struggling to pull the answer to that question out of her head. After thirty seconds, the word seeped out of her mouth.
“Miyo,” she murmured. “Miyo Konpaku.” She nodded along with herself, smiling as the answer satisfied her. That was good. That was progress.
“And Youmu is your little sister, right?” Komachi kept her eyes on the road, only looking back to Sakuya when she stayed silent.
“Yes. Not by much. A year or so. At our age that was a big gap. I was always the trustworthy big sister that she depended on.” Sakuya laughed, rubbing at her eyes a little. “When she was just learning to speak she would call me Myon. The nickname stuck. I thought it was cute.”
For a minute or so she was quiet. Komachi thought of asking another question, but Sakuya’s look was determined as she watched the scenery pass by. It seemed like a poor idea to distract her until she was ready to talk, and until then Komachi focused her attention on the road. They would make it to the manor in fifteen minutes at this rate. Whether that would be fast enough was a question Komachi didn’t have the answer to.
Sakuya let out a sigh as an unspoken warning that she was about to speak.
“My family loved swordfighting, and they trained us in kendo from an early age. I was never able to get very far - I could handle form, but there was no real strength in my blows. Youmu, though - the sword came so naturally to her it may as well have been sewn to her arm. She was amazing to watch, even at that age. It’s good to know that she hasn’t lost her touch. She’s beating the men at their own game, even.”
The maid had wrapped her arms around herself, unable to find anything to hug inside the car. Every story she let out made her smile a little brighter. Komachi had to smile at that. Maybe Sakuya’s life had been bleak, and maybe it wouldn’t be the cleanest of reunions, but nothing could take away from the fact that Sakuya had finally found her family. And a sister, at that.
If she wasn’t at the wheel, Komachi would have probably gone back there and hugged her herself.
“Hm?”
Komachi was so caught up in Sakuya’s reaction that she barely noticed the other car. It was a low-cut limousine, blasting out from behind them at break-neck pace. Komachi only had an instant to turn and catch a look at the driver.
Yuyuko Saigyouji clung to the wheel like a woman possessed, a look of sheer hatred blazing in her eyes. There was a passenger at her side, but it was an unfamiliar face that Komachi had no time to take in. Moments later the car was well ahead of them, swerving left and right between traffic as it cut a path towards the manor.
“Oh, shit.” Komachi tried to bring Old Rusty up a gear, but all she got for her efforts was a feeble splutter from the engine. She kicked the machine as a reward for its good work.
Sakuya stirred, like she’d been abruptly woken from a long sleep. “What’s going on?”
Komachi heard the vein popping out of her own forehead. “We just got overtaken by everyone’s favourite kidnapper.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she regretted them. Sakuya transformed in an instant, the cheerful daze giving way to the same hateful look that Yuyuko had been brandishing.
“Go.”
She muttered the word as an order rather than a request. Komachi began to feel uncomfortable in her own car.
“I’m going as fast as she can muster, but-”
“Your specialty is distance, isn’t it? Then work your magic.”
Sakuya’s words were emotionless, but Komachi could see the darkness in her eyes. She was planning to do something unforgivable to Yuyuko when they caught up with her. As much as that concerned Komachi, they couldn’t leave the rest of the Sirens without proper backup.
Well, if we’re busting out the big guns...Komachi opened the glove compartment, pulling out a siren. Opening her window, she planted the device firmly on the roof of her car, taking care not to accidentally give the car a new sunroof. A cord ran down the siren, ending in a remote control with a single button on it. As Komachi pressed it, the siren let off the deafening wail of a police vehicle.
“I got this as a present for hauling in a big fish on my first case,” Komachi yelled. “I hope you realise that if anyone catches wind of this I’m probably gonna go to jail, right?”
“You’re a lawyer,” Sakuya answered, her voice still dangerously cold. “Making up excuses is how you make your living.”
Komachi was beginning to get a little frightened of Sakuya. She found herself unusually grateful that her job would keep them from crossing paths too often in the future.
“I’m gonna pretend that was a thank you. Now, let’s roll!”
Komachi reached into a pocket in her suit. Her fingers ran across a familiar smoothness as she lifted the Teardrop above her head.
“Death and life have their determined appointments...”-----
When Koishi stepped back into the dojo, the mood was as dark as when she had left. Mokou had transformed in her absence, practicing punch combos as flames flickered around her fists. Sango walked up and down the length of the room, murmuring something about “punching her in the nose”. Youki was seated where he had been before, eyes firmly closed as he seemed lost in meditation.
No, Koishi thought to herself. That was wrong. That wasn’t Youki. It had never been. The hard part was getting him to go along with that.
No-one paid much attention to Koishi when she stepped in. Sango stopped her pacing across the room, giving her a small wave. The dolphin still seemed lost in her anti-Jozu battle plans, getting back to her wandering moments later. A fight was imminent. No-one was in the mood for discussion.
Except Koishi.
“Youki-san,” she said, stepping towards the swordsman again. “We need to talk.”
Youki - at least that was what he called himself - opened his eyes in an instant. He was awake and aware within a second as he looked up at the Siren.
“I’ve already told you that I’m not saying anything.” His tone was accusatory, almost aggressive. “Don’t you have better things to do than poke through someone else’s private life?”
Koishi shook her head. She wasn’t going to let this travesty continue any longer.
“You don’t have to lie anymore, Youmu-san.”
The name was enough. The colour vanished from Youki’s face. Mokou and Sango turned around to see what had put the swordsman on edge.
“How...did you...” The words choked out of Youmu’s mouth. Koishi knelt down beside her, patting at her shoulder.
“Youki-san explained everything to me. I know what happened to you.”
“OK, hold up,” Mokou said, standing above Koishi and looking down on her with puzzled anger. “You’re trying to say this isn’t Youki Saigyouji?”
Koishi nodded. It was hard to get the words out - even thinking about it made her tremble - but even if it was painful, the truth had to be heard.
“We haven’t been talking to Youki Saigyouji from the beginning. We haven’t even been talking to a man. The real Youki-san died ten years ago.”
“Then how did you talk to him?” Sango asked, poking her head around from behind Mokou.
“I...” This was hard for Koishi to word. In the end it sounded almost too simple. “I met his spirit, I guess. He hasn’t passed on properly. I don’t think he can while his mother denies his death.”
Sango’s face crumpled, but Koishi was too busy to ask why. She turned back to the trembling swordsman. “It’s okay, Youmu-san. You don’t need to hide anymore.”
Youmu looked like she was struggling to keep herself from falling over. Her body shook uncontrollably, like it was set to explode. Koishi had seen this reaction before - slowly, but surely, Youmu was approaching the truth she had to face. Just a little longer, and she would be through the hardest part.
Koishi didn’t expect the trembling to stop so suddenly. And she certainly didn’t predict the laughter that followed.
“Heh...” Youmu’s voice rose half an octave, but it was painfully calm. “You may have good intentions, but you’re far too naive.”
“W-What?” Koishi shuffled backwards, caught entirely off guard. Wasn’t this the part where everything got better?
“I’ve had ten years to speak up,” Youmu continued, standing up and looking down on Koishi. “Do you think it’s simple to pretend you’re a man? All I had to do was bare my chest and the whole thing would have fallen apart. If it was that easy to stop being Youki, do you think I’d still be here if I didn’t want to be?”
She began to stride around the room, circling Koishi. “Think about it. If I go back to being Youmu, what does that make me? An orphan with a maniac for a caretaker and nothing resembling a family. No mama, no papa, no Miyo - I don’t want to go back to that again.”
More than anything, Youmu sounded distant. She was speaking about herself so impersonally Koishi almost thought she was talking about someone else.
“So you would have me drop the masquerade and return to my measly excuse for a life, and at the same time lose the affection of the one woman on this earth who still cares about me?” Youmu shoved her face in front of Koishi’s, so close their noses almost touched. “That’s what I mean when I say you’re naive. Some of us don’t get happy endings. Stop being a child.”
Koishi was motionless. She felt like she’d just been stabbed in the heart. Youmu stepped away, sitting where she had been before and retaking her meditative pose. She was silent up until the whirring of an engine caught everyone's attention.
“Cars at the front entrance, I believe," Youmu said, speaking with a man's voice once again. "If that’s the danger you’re speaking about, you’d best go do something about it.”
There was no answer from Koishi. She slowly rose to her feet, but her eyes were empty. Mokou grit her teeth, looking set to take control of the situation.
Koishi spoke before anyone else could step in.
“No.”
She felt every eye in the room turn to her as she shook her head. She wouldn’t accept that. She couldn’t.
“Youmu-san. You can’t live your whole life wearing someone else’s face. Deep down you know you’re lying to yourself, and that’s hurting you more than the truth ever would.”
Youmu glared at her, but didn’t bother to respond. Either she was unimpressed, or she didn’t want to listen. Koishi kept speaking regardless.
“It’s the same with Yuyuko-san. For ten years, you’ve let her live out the delusion that her son’s still alive. Maybe she honestly doesn't remember, maybe she's hidden it from herself. But that can't last forever, and the longer you keep this up the worse it'll be for her when it all comes crashing down. You’re hurting her just like you’re hurting yourself.”
Koishi took a deep breath. She felt calmer than she expected to be. She’d grown used to this pressure over time. In the end, nothing was going to stop her from helping Youmu, whether she liked it or not.
“I’m not going to act like this will be painless, Youmu-san. It’s not a nice thing to come to terms with, but one day you’ll thank yourself for it. I promise.”
Youmu didn’t so much as budge. Koishi would have talked with her again, but there were more pressing matters to deal with. Koishi turned around to face Mokou and Sango, resuming her mantle as the unspoken leader.
“I’ll stay with Youmu-san and make sure no-one touches her. Mokou-san, you get out there and handle the resistance. Sakuya-san and Komachi-san are on their way, but you’ll have to hold them off until then. Sango-san, I assume you’ve got personal business to take care of, but if you finish early we could always use some more backup.”
Mokou smirked. “Leaving all the heavy lifting to me? Well, at least you’re honest about your limitations.”
Sango offered a salute. “I won’t come back until that shark’s had a plentiful helping of my fist in her face. Hold the fort until I’m back, alright?”
The trio nodded to each other before going their separate ways. Koishi remained behind, hanging next to the door, readying her trident to attack the first enemy to find their way here.
She looked back at Youmu, still lost in thought. The swordsman’s stance had softened a little. Maybe Koishi had made some progress with her, but it would be a slow grind.
If that’s what I have to go through, so be it. Koishi gripped the trident tightly, focusing on her duty.
This girl’s been abandoned by everyone she's ever met. It's about time someone reached a hand out to her.
